As the World Crashes
by abnormal-integrities
Summary: It has always been Fred and George. Never just Fred, nor just George. What happens when George is told none of it was ever real? Read & Review please :
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **Hello! This is my very first upload to this site, so bare with me here. And with that, I hope you enjoy! :)  
>The plot will make a lot more sense in later chapters as George reminisces about his past.<p>

****I suppose this is slightly AU :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. I wish I did though! So I can have the pleasure of saying that I own Fred and George 3

**Summary: **It has always been Fred and George. Never just Fred, nor just George. What happens when George is told none of it was ever real?

**Rating: **K+

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><p><strong>As the World Crashes<strong>

_Will you tell me it wasn't just a dream?_

"Oi, Ickle Georgiekins," a familiar and easily recognizable voice said in a sing-song voice. "Wake up!"

George groaned into his pillow and turned to the side slightly in an attempt to get away from his twin's voice. It was certainly annoying right now, considering George just wanted to sleep at the moment. It was the beginning of summer for Pete's sake! It was certainly the time to catch up on much needed rest.

Fred huffed in annoyance and flung himself on to his half-awake, half- sleeping brother. George let out a slight yelp and his eyes shot open, surprised by the sudden weight that was now crushing him. Of course he should've expected something like this, considering Fred was stubborn and wouldn't quit at something until he got what he wanted.

"Gerrofme," George mumbled, breathing heavily. He tried to push Fred off of him, but with no success. Fred laughed slightly at the feeble struggles of his brother. "Fine, fine! I'm awake! Get off!" George bellowed, pushing Fred rather easily off of him now that he agreed he would wake up. "Prat."

"Hey, hey! Don't be mad at me because _you_ have problems waking up in the morning," Fred teased.

"I don't have problems waking up! Well-" George looked at him straight in the eye as he positioned himself so he was now sitting on the bed, "I suppose I do have a problem with waking up: You."

Fred gave a fake expression of hurt. "Why I never, Georgie."

George rolled his eyes. "What time is it anyways?" He asked as he yawned and stretched his back. It was way too early to be up; the sun had not even risen yet. It had to be at least before six. The Burrow was usually quiet until at least seven when their mother would start her hustle and bustle around the house.

"About 5:45. At least, I think so anyways," Fred informed with a slight shrug. "Is time really important anyways? We've got work to do."

With an incredulous look, George raised a ginger eyebrow at his twin. Certainly he must've gone mad if he actually wanted to do work during the summer break. "Ah, like what dear brother?"

"We've got to prepare our product!" Fred exclaimed, as if it were obvious.

George rolled his eyes again, and leaned back in bed. "We've got all summer," George told him with a reassuring smile. They had all the time in the world to perfect their products. Right now, all George wanted was to sleep. He closed his eyes hoping that Fred would let him go back to sleep.

Fred gave a whimper and George opened his eyes to see Fred was now pouting and giving him the puppy dog eyes. This was his routine in trying to look 'innocent', but of course George wasn't buying it. He closed his eyes again, a smile on his lips. "What happens if we don't, George? What if summer goes by like _that_?" Fred snapped his fingers, demonstrating how quickly the summer could go for both of them.

"It won't."

Without another word coming from Fred, George wondered if he actually upset him. George opened his eyes to see a rather disappointed Fred. He stifled a laugh, and walked over to his brother and poked him in the chest. "Fine, you git. What do you have planned?" Honestly, George did actually want to work on their products; he always did. It was one of the many things that he and Fred loved to do together and it usually brought him in a good mood.

Instantly, Fred's disappointment evaporated and was immediately replaced with a huge grin. "Get dressed."

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><p>Both boys worked for about an hour. The sun had finally risen and both of them were enjoying each other's company. George would occasionally poke or prod Fred while he was researching through Charm's books and would receive a rather humerous glare. Fred would sometimes be making funny faces when George was trying to concentrate on a specific product and he would burst out with the fit of the giggles. Neither of them was ever bored whenever they ever made their products.<p>

"So did you perfect the Puking Pastilles yet?" Fred asked, as he was flipping through notes that they had made previously on them. "It's rather important we don't screw up how much snakeweed we put in there." He grimaced, remember what had happened last time they had both done that. George was puking for days and all Fred could do was comfort him as he watched their mother nurse George back to health. "Don't want that happening again, Georgie."

George made a distasteful face. "How come it's always me that gets hurt or sick when we're testing out our products?"

Fred shrugged with a smile on his lips. "Bad timing?"

"Arse."

"Prat."

Suddenly Fred turned to see Mrs. Weasley as she entered the kitchen where both boys were working on the kitchen table. Fred and George both gave a cheeky smile to their mother. Molly stared at George for a moment, a flash of worry on her face, and then her face went back to normal. He stared at her for a moment, as if she had completely gone mad. He shrugged not knowing why she had done what she did and went back to his work.

"Now, George Weasley, what on earth are you working on?" She asked, walking over to him. "Look at this mess that you have to clean up! I swear you're always making a muck around my house!"

George looked over to Fred, who seemed to be wearing a smirk that said 'Ha-ha-you-have-to-clean-and-I-don't'. "Working on Puking Pastilles; had a couple of kinks with them before so I was just trying to fix it up." He glared at Fred the entire time, as Fred stuck his tongue out playfully at his twin.

"The things that made me have to clean up your sick for four days?"

George nodded sheepishly, a slight blush creeping upon his cheeks. Fred out right laughed at his face; of course it was funny _now_ that he wasn't puking his guts out. Before, it was out-right terrifying.

"Shut-up!" George hissed, embarrassed by the fact that Fred was still laughing at him. There were tears welling up in Fred's eyes as he laughed. Merlin, sometimes he couldn't control himself when he was having these fits.

Molly raised an eyebrow at George, surprised by the sudden out burst. "What was that?"

Fred laughed even louder now- Oh, George's face was priceless! "Nothing mum," George told her. He glared at Fred the entire time, wishing he would just give it a rest. How would _he _like it if he had to endure days of vomiting because Fred added too much snakeweed? Noticing George's face, Fred sobered up and tried to give a rather apologetic look. It didn't work however, because his face still bore a smirk that pretty much told George 'I'm-not-really-sorry-I-still-think-it's-funny'. George continued to glare at Fred, even though deep-down he wanted to laugh at Fred's attempt at an apology.

"What on earth are you staring at?" Molly asked suddenly, looking back and forth from where George was looking and at George himself. George jumped slightly, forgetting that Mrs. Weasley was indeed in the room with both of them.

Fred looked slightly surprised and actually a little hurt; George on the other hand rolled his eyes. "At Fred of course. Goodness woman, you call yourself our mother."

Molly's face fell at the mention of Fred's name. '_How… how on earth did he know?' _She thought vaguely. _'I thought… he was gone…' _For a brief moment, a look of pure terror set on her face as she looked at George. This couldn't be happening. Not again. Mrs. Weasley shook her head, as if she was trying to make all the thoughts that were running through her brain fall out of her skull. She set her jaw, glowering at where Fred was supposedly sitting.

Both twins looked at one another. Fred mouthed the words, 'What did I do?' George shrugged in response. In all honesty, he sometimes thought their mother was a bit of a nutter. He still loved her nonetheless. Not really knowing what else to say to either Fred or Mrs. Weasley, he focused his attention back to the Puking Pastilles.

That was of course until a rather loud "ARTHUR" came out of Mrs. Weasley's throat. George jumped slightly at the sudden loud scream. Honest to Merlin, she had a set of lungs. Fred bit his bottom lip nervously, looking back and forth from Mrs. Weasley and George. Maybe if he could leave now…

In the doorway came a very groggy Mr. Weasley seconds later. He opened one eye, examining the kitchen and seeing a very worried Molly. He took an empty seat in between Fred and George, smiling happily at George. "What is it, dear?" Arthur asked as he examined over the items that were on the kitchen table, fairly interested to see what his son was doing.

"He's back."

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><p>Wow, that seemed a lot shorter than I thought it would be...<br>Anyways, please review and tell me how I could make it better! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: xxBlacksxxDaughterxx: **Thank you so much! I'm really glad that I attracted your attention, and I'm glad that you like my story :D **SolelyReader:** Thank you so much! :)

Anyways, this chapter was a little longer, hope you all don't mind!

**Disclaimer: **Surprise! My name is J.K. Rowling ;-; I wish.

**Summary: **It has always been Fred and George. Never just Fred, nor just George. What happens when George is told none of it was ever real?

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong>As the World Crashes<strong>

_Will you stay by my side?_

The two words seemed to hang around over all of their heads and leave bitter tastes in their mouths. Mr. Weasley stiffened at those two words however. He looked over at George with sad eyes then looking at Mrs. Weasley hoping for some sort of confirmation to what she had just said. With a slight nod of confirmation coming from her, Mr. Weasley could feel his stomach drop.

_Not again._

George looked over at Fred. He was confused and actually a little scared. Although, having Fred here was comfort enough for him to believe it probably didn't involve them. Maybe it was just some sort of parenting thing that they had for both of them to confess to something they didn't do. Merlin knows it worked before.

Fred bit his bottom lip, unsure of what to do. All he wanted to do was talk to George, but the room was eerily silent. The looks that they would give George if he started talking… Fred didn't really want to see that. Not at the rate this conversation was going. So, he sat there, head down looking away from George.

The silence lasted for minutes on end. Occasionally both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked back and forth from George and each other. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Suddenly, the silence had been broken by Mr. Weasley. "We… we need to discuss this, Molly." His voice was dripped with worry and was still rather hoarse.

Mr. Weasley rose up from his chair swiftly and gave a rather knowing look to Mrs. Weasley. He left the kitchen, followed by her. They didn't go too far, for Fred and George heard their footsteps stop when they reached, which Fred and George assumed to be, the living room. They could hear their whispers, occasionally making out some words here and there.

"Where are the expendable ears when ya need them?" George asked quietly with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. Fred gave a hushed snort.

"Could certainly be useful right about now," Fred whispered back. Although, if he wanted he could just go into the other room and easily listen to what they were saying. Fred however didn't want to leave George alone; not just yet.

George nodded in agreement. "What's going on with them?" George stretched his neck in an attempt to see their parents in the living room, but gave up when he couldn't see a single thing. He huffed in annoyance, "I've got a bad feeling about this."

All Fred could do was squirm in his seat. He _knew _what was going to happen. It happened before, and all he wished right now was that he had left George alone the first time.

None of this would be happening if it wasn't for him.

"You okay Freddie?" George asked, worried about his twin. He never liked it when Fred was worried; it gave off an uneasy feeling to George. Usually, Fred was never worried and now that he was… Well, George wasn't comforted by his idea that this was just some parent thing.

"What? Oh, yeah. M' fine." Fred mumbled. He held onto his hands, rubbing them together in hopes of comforting himself. It didn't work.

"Uh-huh and I'm You-Know-Who. Come off it, what's wrong?" George said with light-heartedness about it. Of course, he was worried if Fred was worried. And he was definitely worried about Fred.

"Nothing, George. It's just-" He paused, biting his lower lip in concentration. "I just- don't want you to hate me."

George's eyes widened. Why on earth would he hate Fred? His twin brother; his other half. Certainly there was a reason to why he could ever think George would hate him. Honestly, Fred _should know _George could never hate him. It just wasn't possible.

"Freddie, I could never hate you. You know that." George offered a small smile in an attempt to reassure him. Fred wasn't reassured, and he put his head in his hands. George frowned at how his twin didn't seem to believe him and the fact that he was still upset. "I could _never _hate you." He repeated, emphasizing the never. Honestly, he was a little hurt that his twin didn't seem to believe him.

"You say that now."

"I-" George halted at the sight of his parents. They both looked at him with sad eyes. Molly's were red and puffy, as if she had been crying. Arthur's were… blank underneath the cover of sadness in them. Both of them inched closer to where George was sitting. Arthur took the seat where Fred was sitting, and Fred moved out of the way before Arthur was able to sit on him.

The feelings of uncertainty and fear were slowly creeping back to George.

The comfort of having his twin next to him seemed to not be enough at the moment. Fred laid a comforting hand on George's shoulder. He never felt the comfort that he longed for.

"George," Mrs. Weasley finally said. Her voice was strained, as if she didn't want to tell him this. "How long has Fred been back?"

George blinked his eyes rapidly. _Been back? Where did he go? _He looked behind him to see tears welling up in his twin's eyes. What on earth was going on, and did Fred know something? "What do you mean?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "George, when did Fred come back? Is… Is he here right now?"

George nodded, and pointed to where Fred was standing behind him. Arthur and Molly stared blankly ahead. There was nothing there.

Fred shifted uncomfortably, putting weight on one foot then the other. He wished that none of this was happening to his brother; that their roles would switch right about now. Then, he mentally cursed himself. He didn't want George to be in the position he was in either.

"George, dear," Molly began, uncertain of how to inform this to him. "There's no one there."

George looked at her as if she had said the maddest thing he's ever heard. Well, actually it was the maddest thing he ever heard. Couldn't she see him? He was standing right-

Where'd he go?

Panic surged through him and he was about to stand from his seat until a very concerned Mrs. Weasley took George's hand into her own. He tried to shove it off; he _needed _to find Fred. Maybe he was hurt, although George highly doubted that. Fred never got hurt, emotionally and physically. George couldn't even remember the last time Fred cried…

"George," Mrs. Weasley said, breaking him out of his haze. He looked up, worry still etched into his face. He gulped slightly when he looked to see Mrs. Weasley's face scrunched up with worry as well. "I need you to tell me everything that Fred has told you."

George looked away from Mrs. Weasley's eyes. In an attempt to look anywhere else but her eyes, that was when he noticed Mr. Weasley wasn't there anymore. He gulped slightly; why did another Weasley disappear from this conversation? "Um, mum. Where'd dad go?"

For a moment, he thought that she was going to say the same thing she had told him about Fred; that Mr. Weasley was never there. Though, frustration took the better of Mrs. Weasley as she practically screamed and nearly scared him out of his seat, "George Fabian Weasley tell me everything I need to know _now!_"

"I-I- what do you n-need to know?" George stuttered, clearly uncomfortable.

Mrs. Weasley pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, frustration steaming out of her head it seemed. George couldn't help but let out a small giggle, amused by the sight. He would've known Fred would find this funny too- '_If only Fred were here. Where did that sod go off to? Probably will let me take the blame for everything… Whatever 'everything' is… Get to the point mum.' _George cleared his throat in an attempt to attract his mother's attention. It worked.

"Answer every question honestly; will you do that for me George?"

He nodded in compliance. He was still nervous and scared a bit, but his boredom seemed to finally overcome that. Now, all George wanted was to have a talk with Fred and just tell him how much of a _wonderful_ person he was, leaving him behind and all. _The git._

"Is today the first time you saw Fred?"

George raised a ginger eyebrow obviously confused by her question. Why would she even ask something like that? Fred was his brother, of course this wasn't the first time he saw him. He shook his head no.

"Can… can you remember last summer?"

Again, George raised another eyebrow. Honestly, the questions that she was asking seemed a bit _strange. _

"Please," Mrs. Weasley nearly begged.

George looked down at the table. What did he do last summer again? He tried to remember, but his mind came up blank. _Odd. _George wrinkled his forehead in concentration, trying his best to remember anything. _Nothing. _Frustrated, George let out a sigh and shook his head no again.

"W-was Fred there? At school last year?"

George tried to remember school. It was odd. He couldn't remember much of that either. The only thing that seemed to come up was some classes and more specifically the last month of school. Though, Fred wasn't there in his memory. Wait that made no sense. Fred talked about school with him during the earlier days of summer though, certainly he was there. Nothing made any sense in his own brain right now, and George let out an exasperated sigh. "He wasn't there from what I can muster up. Honestly mum, how long is this gonna take?"

Mrs. Weasley's lips pressed into a thin line, and George sighed. He knew he wasn't going to get an answer any time soon. He tapped absent-mindedly on the table, wondering when this was going to be over. The uneasiness never seemed to have left the back of his mind. Why couldn't he remember anything? He tried to remember previous summers, even breaks during the school year, but nothing seemed to come up. Well, maybe not now. George always thought he had really bad memory. Maybe it was normal for chunks of it to be missing.

The silence, except for the tapping, seemed to last on for hours when actually it was only minutes. If they _really _thought this was a big deal they would have went to the point. Wouldn't they? Not take this long…

Suddenly, a very disturbed Mr. Weasley re-entered the kitchen again. He looked rather- stressed. This was odd, because Mr. Weasley was usually the calm one out of his parent's relationship. "We're going to St. Mungo's. Be ready in about thirty minutes."

George's eyes widened. Was someone… sick? Or dyeing? "Wait- what for?"

Mr. Weasley looked straight into George's eyes. There was fear mixed with uncertainty in them. He couldn't help but be worried by this; in all his life George never saw his dad like he did now. Like… he didn't know what to do with George. "We're getting you help, son."

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><p>The ride to St. Mungo's was surprisingly not as bad as George expected. Ron and Ginny were sitting next to him, talking amongst themselves and laughing occasionally. His parents never spoke a word, even when Ron and Ginny's voices were getting too loud. Usually, Mrs. Weasley would have scolded them for it by now.<p>

Though, they seemed to be in the same state George was. Well, maybe not exactly. They still hadn't told George why they were taking him to St. Mungo's, and the phrase, _'we're getting you help, son' _kept repeating in his head the entire ride over there. Fred still wasn't there, which made George even more nervous about this whole situation. At least if Fred were here, he would give some sort of joke to make George feel better. Fred's jokes always made him feel better.

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><p>Waiting was something George absolutely <em>hated. <em>He would tap his foot repeatedly, get up and walk around, bother Ron (although he wasn't necessarily in the right mood to do anything absolutely brilliant), or even go talk to some of the other children that were playing in the little children's area St. Mungo's had set up. Right now though, George was sitting in his seat. Well, more like squirming in his seat as he waited for his name to be called.

"George Weasley!" A young nurse had called. She had short blonde hair and actually a very pretty face and she looked a bit young to be working here. George stood up, followed by his parents, and went to where she was standing. "Hello and how are you today?" She asked George in a very high-pitched voice.

He cringed slightly at how much she talked to him as a child. Who did she think she was? He was of age! George didn't even have to be here. He was only here because his parents had forced… That wasn't the point. The fact was: he was an adult and deserved respect. Even though he played jokes and wasn't really serious all the time, people respected him.

"I'm not a child," He told her rather coldly.

Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were both shocked at how their son had treated her. Though, the nurse gave a reassuring smile to show that she was all right. "Oh, I know. Now follow me," She told them as she opened the door for them to pass through. George gave a huff as he passed her and his parents gave an apologetic look. "My name is Hestia Bloxum, by the way." Hestia told them as she made her way past George to lead them to the room where they would await for a Healer. "The Healer will be with you momentarily," was all she told them before she left.

George sighed in annoyance. That was what he hated about St. Mungo's. The waiting. You know, they have many Healers here, they shouldn't have to wait-

"Hello ma' boy! Good to see ya," The Healer told him as he entered the room. He engulfed George into a big bear hug, as if he hadn't seen him in a _long _time. "Oh my how you've grown! Such a strapping young lad yer are."

When George was released from his hug (better yet, strangle), all he could do was stare at the man. He had a grey goatee, a rather large nose, and a very big belly. There were several wrinkles on his face, and his eyes squinted when he smiled. The man sort of reminded him of the muggle character Santa Claus.

"Take a seat ya goof ball," The man said well- naturedly. George did as he was told, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. Why couldn't he remember this man? Surely he would have liked him enough to remember. "Now, I've been told you're seeing Fred again? Now tell me, was it as clear and as scary as last time?"

Last time? Scary? Okay, this man had obviously known who George was, but he couldn't remember who he was. The Healer knew of Fred when he didn't even remember going to this office at St. Mungo's, let alone remembering Fred going with him. George gave him a confused expression, and politely asked, "What was your name again?"

The Healer frowned. It didn't really go well with his usual charismatic nature. "My name is Neir Osborne. Do you not remember me, George?" George shook his head slowly. "Hm, interesting," He said as he stroked his beard in thought. Then he turned to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "You two remember me, correct?" He joked light-heartedly.

Both of them nodded yes, their face just as serious as it was when they walked in. Only George cracked a small smile.

The Healer let out a slight cough before winking to George. He moved his way over to where a filing cabinet lay and searched through it until finally acquiring a file. It read 'George Weasley' on it, and George stared at in disbelief. Honestly, how could he not remember being here when he had his own file!

"Now, back to being serious," The Healer began as he read through the file. "Last time you were here was because… of an imaginary friend? Correct? And both of you were scared that-" Mrs. Weasley coughed, her eyes begging not to continue. "Right, well… Fred, right? He came back and now you're worried something's wrong with him, correct?"

"That is what I said," Mr. Weasley said, his cheeks red.

"Right…" The Healer said slowly. "Well, I don't really see the problem. Imaginary friends come back sometimes. Even if we're a little older, there's really nothing to worry-"

Mrs. Weasley interrupted, and muttered a slight apology before continuing, "B-but he never left."

"What?" The Healer raised his eyebrow. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner? Do you realize what you've been doing by letting him believe that…" The Healer trailed off. His brow furrowed in frustration and concentration.

George however wasn't paying mind to the conversation in front of him. All he seemed to notice was the file that was now resting on the Healer's desk. It was practically screaming for it to be opened and be read. What he would give to see what was in there. Slowly, noticing that the Healer and his parents delved into a very important conversation, he took the file. He flipped through the pages, until one particular page took his interest.

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><p><em><strong>George Fabian Weasley<strong>_

_-1 of 7_

_-10 years old_

_-Pureblood_

_-Parents complaining of imaginary friend that is disrupting home-life, causing pranks, mischief, and scaring younger brother Ron._

_-Parents are scared that George is "disturbed"_

_-George is a fine boy, very funny. Only thing that had me slightly worried was when he said this: "At first, he scared me. He looks exactly like me. I told him to go away, but he said he wanted to play. I felt bad for him, so I let him play with my ball." Not typical imaginary friend behavior._

_-Just a case of over-protective and overly-concerned parents._

_-Remember the name "Fred"_

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><p>George re-read the text over and over again. His heart was racing, his palms were sweaty, and his hands were shaking. None of the words made sense in his head. It was as if the whole page was written in another language. It couldn't be real. This was just some sick, cruel joke constructed by Fred. It had to be.<p>

Though, George knew. George knew in the back of his mind this wasn't a joke.

It was too real.

George wanted to scream, to yell at everyone in the room. He was frustrated, scared, and worst of all _alone. _Where was Fred now? Why couldn't he be here to make him feel any better? George wanted an explanation and he didn't care from who. He tried to speak, but the only thing that could come out of his mouth was a strangled groan; it sounded like he was dying.

Everyone turned to look at George, seeing what he wanted. He brought the file to the desk, and stared at it, waiting for an explanation.

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><p><strong>Good, bad? Let me know :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Sorry this had taken so long to get out! I've been so very busy, and I've been really wanting to update this story so badly! :D

Thank you for all your lovely reviews! It makes me so happy :D 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would be living in my mansion in Australia.

**Summary: **It has always been Fred and George. Never just Fred, nor just George. What happens when George is told none of it was ever real?

**Rating: **K+

* * *

><p><strong>As the World Crashes<strong>

****_Will you tell me you're okay?_

The whole room had gone to an uneasy and uncomfortable silence; it was as if the whole world had stopped turning and everything and everyone had their eyes on George. The only ones who seemed worried were his parents, and Neil seemed to have this curious expression on his face that George couldn't seem to explain.

George however, was freaking out on the inside. On the outside however, would tell a completely different story. His jaw was locked and his eyes bore no emotion. His face was expressionless. None of this looked right on him; it was a bad look on him considering his features usually made up a laugh or a smile. Now, everything just seemed so wrong.

"What is it my boy?" Neil, the Healer, asked him. The concern was evident in his voice.

George shook his head and pointed at the file that was now lying on the Healer's desk. Neil brought his eyes to the file for a moment then looked straight back into George's eyes. "What is this rubbish?" George asked openly, venom and disgust obvious in his voice.

His parents looked a bit shocked at how his words sounded while the Healer remained in the same concerned manor that he originally had. "That is your file, George," Neil said, stating the obvious. If it had been anyone else, George would've yelled straight in there face for it. Though, George felt this strange overwhelming feeling to just… trust the man. Why would he trust him when he barely met him only hours before? Or, from what he could remember anyways. "Is there a problem?"

George nodded. "This," He pointed towards the file, "isn't true. It's complete rubbish. Fred isn't some imaginary friend of mine. He's my brother; my _twin _brother in fact. How could anyone say he's not real? He's been with me since as long as I could remember. He's my best friend." He was slightly out of breath from speaking so much in such little time, and his cheeks were slightly red. George turned to see his mother tearing up, and his father sat there without emotion. _What was wrong with them! Why aren't they defending me and Fred?_

For a moment, Neil seemed rather worried. It flashed as quickly as a second, but George had caught it. It gave him a rather sick feeling to see that. Why? George didn't know.

Neil seemed to not know who to talk to first, because his gaze kept turning from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to George. George bit his bottom lip, anxiety filling his entire body. Why was he even feeling like this? There was nothing wrong. Everything was absolutely fine… Wasn't it? Though, when Neil turned to George, he could feel his stomach drop. It was utterly terrifying and he didn't know why.

"George," Neil said slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time. "Fred isn't real."

The words, those four words, seemed to deafen everything around him. The words kept replaying in his head, like a scratched record. It hurt to hear, it hurt to imagine, because Fred _was _real. George could talk to him, see him, _and feel _him. It was impossible to think otherwise. There was so many words that he wanted to say; to yell at Neil for even suggesting such a preposterous thing like that.

However, when George opened his mouth to yell at Neil, nothing came out from it. He was frozen in place, because he knew. George knew.

Fred wasn't real.

How could this be possible though? All the times they spent together, all the times they talked to each other in front of other people; was it all just a lie? No. It was real. It was so clear in his mind. Every talk and every smile, George could remember it all so clearly. How come it made so much sense that he wasn't real though? How come George knew to believe this man?

His head swam with questions, and it almost felt as if he couldn't breathe. George could feel the walls closing in on him, squeezing the sanity out of him. The stares of Neil, Molly, Arthur, were all too much. They bore into him like a magnifying glass to an ant. He needed air, water, anything. George needed to leave. There was a crushing sensation on his chest as he felt the air leaving him. He stood up to go outside, but he could see the corners of his vision beginning to go hazy as black spots clouded his vision. He was dizzy, and everything in the room was spinning. George gripped onto the table for some support, but it did no use, for he fell to the floor, feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head. The blackness seemed to bring some relief to him, and he drifted off to a dream less sleep with only one word in his head.

Fred.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hi. Who are you?"<em>

_The boy looked at him puzzled, even a bit startled. His ginger eyebrows seemed to rise a bit in surprise, and looked around him as if searching for another person that this boy was talking to. When there was no one else in sight the boy pointed to himself, asking silently if it was him the boy wanted to speak to._

_The other boy nodded. "Who're you? My name's George."_

"_Fred."_

_George looked over the boy for a moment, examining him at every angle. Even at the age of five, George knew that he shouldn't talk to strangers. But, this boy was different. He wasn't a big scary adult, nor was he an annoying teenager. He was his age, had the same hair color, the same eyes…_

"_You look like me."_

_The boy, Fred, looked at him totally shocked. Then a small smirk formed on his lips as he looked at George. "What if it's _you _who looks like _me_?"_

_George stared at him for a moment, pondering his words. He gave a shrug. "So, what does that mean?"_

_Fred stared at him for a moment, before he smiled and said, "We must be brothers. Ever heard of twins?"_

_George shook his head no, but there was an identical smile on his face. "Is that what we are?"_

"_Must be," Fred said with a smirk. "Rather wicked ain't it? To have someone look like you?"_

_George shrugged; his smile still on his face. "Wouldn't know. Never had a twin before."_

_Fred nodded; his smirk turning into a rather sad smile. Actually, George wouldn't even call it a smile. It looked like a very sad attempt at a smile, one that was forced onto his face. Like he somehow knew this couldn't be true._

Maybe he's sad because he doesn't have any friends_, George thought. He looked down at the ball he was carrying and lifted it up a bit to Fred's direction. "Wanna play with my ball? It's not really fun playing by myself."_

_Fred looked at him with a puzzled expression. Slowly and tentatively he made his way towards the ball and touched it. The surprise on his features was evident, and he let go of the ball, only to touch it again as if to see if it was really there. Slowly, he held onto it and took it from George. The only thing he was able to stare at it in disbelief in his hands. _

"_Y'know you're supposed to throw it," George said sarcastically, obviously amused at the sight before him._

_Fred looked up from the ball towards George, and with a smirk he threw the ball at him. The fact that it actually hit him seemed to give him a wicked smile. "So does that mean I win, Georgie?" Fred asked mockingly with a smirk._

_After picking up the ball from the floor, George looked up at him and gave an identical smirk. "Not yet, Freddie." George threw the ball at Fred, nearly missing his face. Fred laughed as he picked up the ball and aimed to throw it at George, who began running to any other place than there. Fred followed; their laughs filling the air as they played together._

* * *

><p>George awoke in a familiar place; a comfortable bed that smelt of home, or well his room. He brought his hands from under the quilt that was up to his neck and brought the quilt down so his arms rested comfortably over it. He only assumed his mother had done that for him, because he knew no one else who covered a blanket so tightly like that besides her. He looked around the room, surveying it until his eyes landed on a familiar face much like his own.<p>

"Glad to see you're up."

Fred was sitting on a rocking chair that was very close to George's bed, staring intently at him with a weak smile on his face. His eyes seemed rather joyous, hiding how worried he had been only moments before.

George chuckled tiredly, giving a smile to his brother's direction. "How long have I been out?"

"Well dearest brother," Fred began with a smirk on his lips, "Your arse has been in that bed since mum and dad brought you home from your little trip to St. Mungo's. Must've been a blast if you passed out. What they say? That you've gone mental?"

Fred let out a laugh, but it didn't seem to register in George's mind well. The memories of what happened at St. Mungo's flooding back to him. His smile faded, and he looked as if he was going to be sick. Maybe he was… His stomach was churning and he could already feel himself sweating.

He looked at Fred for a moment.

Fred wasn't real.

Was he?

At lightning speed and without really thinking it through, George grabbed the pillow that was supporting his head and threw it straight at Fred. It had hit him and bounced back ever so slightly to land on the small space on the floor. George stared at him, his eyes wide. For a moment, Fred looked at him as if he was crazy… then he just simply grabbed the pillow and smacked George with it on the head.

"Oi, you git! What was that for?"

Again, all George could do was stare as a small smile of relief made its way to his face. Fred had to be real if it the pillow had hit him! How could he be so stupid for almost believing otherwise?

Fred raised an eyebrow and shook his head with a laugh. "You really are a nutter, Georgie." Fred grabbed the pillow and lifted his twin's head, which was lying down limply and unsupported on the mattress, and put the pillow underneath his head. Fred ran a hand through George's hair, and looked at him for a moment before ruffling his hair and squeezing his way into the small twin bed. George scooted over to make enough room for Fred and lay down on his pillow as Fred ran a hand through his hair.

It was a comfortable silence, and neither of them minded. There really wasn't much to say at the moment… George was glad that Fred was here with him and Fred was glad that George was finally awake. Or, Fred was glad that George was back to normal…

Fred was slightly worried for a moment that no one had Obliviated George's mind after the trip to St. Mungo's.

They had been doing that for most of his life and Fred couldn't do a single thing about it. It killed him to know that they were doing that to his brother; his twin.

How could parents do that to their own child? Well, Fred knew that answer. They didn't want to send George away to the psych ward in St. Mungo's and would do anything to protect George from his "illness". It wasn't even an illness.

It was just… him. Just Fred.

_I never wanted it to get this bad… _Fred stared at his brother who had his eyes closed enjoying the feeling of Fred's hands through his hair. He wondered for a moment how _strong _George was. He had his memory wiped so many times that Fred wondered how he could even remember his own name; let alone how George always knew who Fred was after every time they wiped his memory clean. Obviously what their parents were doing wasn't working.

Well… they were using it for the wrong reasons.

Fred was real. Just in a different sense.

He was dead.

It was a sick thing he was doing, and Fred knew it. He just… couldn't let go. It wasn't his fault though. Okay, it was. But, if you were a little kid and you were finally able to communicate with someone other than… yourself, you'd want to stay around to. You would want to grow up with the only person who understood you, who knew what you were thinking, your other half, your twin. The only person who could actually _see _you.

Fred just hated what he was doing to George. What he was causing to happen to him. If he had left a long time ago, George wouldn't have had his mind Obliviated so many times, he wouldn't have to go St. Mungo's, he wouldn't be on this bed waking up from passing out from what had happened at St. Mungo's.

Though, it was strange that their parents had brought him to St. Mungo's this time when they had caught George talking to him. Usually, they would just Obliviate his mind right then and there, and Fred would just walk away. He never wanted to see that being done to his twin while he just stood there and watched, not being able to do anything about it. It was utterly painful to see, but Fred had to admit… if it would get his parents off George's back for a little while, then he was a bit happy.

It was a sick routine that he had become accustomed to.

Fred and George both.

Even though George never remembered any of it.

"Fred?"

Fred looked down to see George was looking up at him; George's face was slightly worried and Fred tried to muster up a smile. It didn't seem to work however, because the edges of George's mouth twitched slightly into a frown. "Yeah, Georgie?"

"You okay?"

"M'fine."

Fred had to smile at George; George had just woken up after passing out and he was worried if _he _was okay. Honestly, George was amazing. He was just so strong all of the time, and Fred was just so… weak. Selfish even; selfish for wanting to stay with George. There was a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach as he thought about this situation more and more. He was the reason why George was suffering so much, and George didn't even know that he was suffering. What a sick thing to do.

"You promise, Freddie?"

Fred gave a fake smile and lied straight to his brother's face.

"I solemnly swear."

* * *

><p>Okay! I hope you enjoyed! R&amp;R please :)<p> 


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